The Chair
by ThePossibilityOfMagic
Summary: Because it was, and always would be, more than just a chair.   Warning: reference to major character death.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey kids. First off, I feel like I need to start this story with a warning, because it happens to contain two things that I have often sworn I would never write: reference to major character death, and future/family Caskett. So, yeah, don't say I didn't warn you. Also, less of a warning but more of a just-so-you-know, this story is original-character centric.  
>(I know, what even are all these strange new things I'm doing?)<em>

_Disclaimer: If AWM and Co. did this, I'd never forgive them. Three years later and I still don't forgive the Prison Break writers for what they did. (__But really, that's a story for another time.)_

_ So, anyways, here we go._

_Enjoy._

* * *

><p>"Hey, Jake?"<p>

"Yeah?"

The swift response brought a smile to her face, her head lifting to fix her eyes on her handsome young rookie.

_Eager as a puppy,_ Velasquez thought, a comparison that had entered her head more than once in the few days since she'd been assigned her new partner.

_A big, manly, "yes-ma'am-no-ma'm" kind of puppy._

Controlling her amused smirk, she lifted her brows slightly, her voice a practiced blend of order and request.

"We need a little more space for all these files. Grab an extra chair, would you."

"Sure," Jake responded instantly, his tall, muscular frame unfolding as he rose from his chair, placing his own stack of files–which had been balancing precariously on his lap, an accident totally just waiting to happen– onto the seat he'd just vacated. Watching him go, she shook her head slightly, then went back to her files, a small smile curving her lips. Clearly, this was a man not used to extended periods of desk work.

Briefly, she wondered whether his swift obedience was due to his years of training in following orders, or simply his eagerness to take the chance to stretch his legs. If she had to guess, she'd probably say both.

Letting out a small, amused huff, she gave her head another small shake. Soldiers. They were all the same.

Barely a moment later, she heard Jake's deep voice beside her once more, startling her.

"Got one."

Looking up, Velasquez lifted an eyebrow at his unexpectedly prompt reappearance. It had been particularly busy in the precinct all day, meaning spare chairs were in short supply– honestly, she'd been half-expecting his search to come up empty, giving her the entertainment of watching his discomfort at not being able to complete such a simple task.

And yet here he was. Score one for soldier boy.

Flicking a glance down at the chair he held, Velasquez looked back up at her partner, lifting an approving eyebrow. "Good work, kid. Just put it–"

Wait.

Looking back at the chair, Velasquez felt her heart sink, her eyes confirming what she already knew.

_Oh no._

"Jake," she said slowly, keeping her voice carefully even, "Where'd you get that chair?"

Clearly, the kid's instincts were good; picking up on her tone instantly, he suddenly tensed, his brow furrowing.

"Just over there," he said cautiously, holding the chair awkwardly as he pointed. Then, looking slightly concerned, he asked, "I'm sorry, did I do something? It was just beside the desk over there, with nothing but a few flowers and a scrap of paper sitting on it. No one was around, so I thought it'd be okay to borrow it."

"No, that's okay, Jake," Velasquez said calmly, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "Just go put it back, okay? Exactly how you found it."

His handsome face looking equal parts worried and confused, he did as she asked, carefully placing the chair back beside the desk and returning the paper and the small bouquet of flowers to their rightful place. With that done, he straightened and began to turn, pausing for a brief moment as something in the break room seemed to catch his eye. A moment later he was back, his eyes full of questions.

"What did I do?" he asked quietly, his tone a fixture of curiosity and apology.

Velasquez sighed, then rubbed her temples, letting her eyes close for a moment. "I'm sorry. I forget how new you are, how much you don't know."

"About a chair?"

"Not just a chair," she answered quietly. "Castle's chair."

For a moment there was silence, Jake's brows drawing tightly together as he struggled to understand.

"Is…" he began, then paused, considered, and tried again. "Is Castle the woman in the break room, the one that was just looking at me like she wanted to slap my own cuffs on me?"

"No. That was Detective Beckett," Velasquez explained, then added softly, "She was Castle's partner... and his wife."

Jake immediately stilled, his eyes softening from confusion to a dawning sadness.

"Was?"

Velasquez sighed softly, then began to explain, her voice hushed. "You remember a case a bit over a year back, the senator who was shot and killed while being apprehended on a multiple murder charge?"

Jake frowned, seemingly thinking. "Yeah, I think I remember that. The guy they called The Dragon? Everyone was talking about it at the Academy. About how…" suddenly, he cut himself off, finally putting it together. When he continued, his voice was quiet. "About how he killed the cop who took him down."

Velasquez nodded sadly, feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes. Even over a year later, they all still carried that scar. For some of them– Ryan, Esposito, Gates, and most of all, Beckett– they always would.

"The day Castle came to us, he was no cop, just a civilian doing 'research'. We all knew he was really mostly here for Beckett, but he… he just _fit_ here, I guess, in a way no one could have ever really expected. He earned his place here, better than many of those who went through the Academy. He was truly one of us, and beyond that, he was one of the best cops I ever knew."

Taking a deep breath, she added softly, "The day he died, he not only saved Detective Beckett's life, but he brought down the man she'd been chasing for nearly fifteen years, the man that had murdered her mother. Castle died a hero."

A short, heavy silence followed her words, as Jake took a moment to process what he'd heard, and she to remember and recover.

"I remember them talking about the funeral," he said eventually, his voice low. "Someone said it was the biggest police funeral they'd ever seen."

"It was," Velasquez answered, a small smile curving her lips. "Castle was loved."

"So they gave him an official police funeral? Even though he was technically a civilian?"

Velasquez's smile took on a fierce, almost proud edge, her eyes downcast as she remembered. "They didn't have a choice. Castle lived and died as one of us– he deserved to be buried as one of us. He was one of our own, and that's something you'll learn about this place, kid; we're a unit, a team. Family. Which is why the entire Twelfth Precinct, including our captain, threatened to resign if Castle wasn't given the burial he deserved. Even the mayor was on our side."

Jake gave a small smile, nodding his head slightly in approval. Then, lifting his eyes back to hers, he raised an eyebrow just a fraction.

"And the flowers on the chair…?"

Velasquez felt her own lips curve just slightly, her fingers toying with the pen she held. "People leave things on the chair. A flower, a plastic police badge, a comic book, a kid's toy, a bad joke or silly drawing– things Castle would love. I guess it's our way of saying thanks, and that we miss him, and that we'll continue to remember."

Her eyes still on his, she watched as he seemed to absorb her words, before turning away, his green eyes coming to rest on the flowers atop the chair– and then on the woman who had returned to the desk, her back to them as she wrote notes in a file, the fingers of her other hand curled around a tan and white coffee cup, her thumb absentmindedly stroking the side. Even from where they sat, several desks away, the glint of gold on her ring finger was clear to see.

Seeming suddenly curious, he asked, "What happens to the stuff on the chair?"

"At the end of every week, Beckett collects it and takes it to the cemetery," Velasquez answered quietly, then gave a wry smile, adding, "Castle has one of the most decorated graves in the whole place."

Jake gave a small chuckle, but his eyes were still fixed on Beckett's back, his gaze thoughtful. Watching him, Velasquez couldn't help but feel her respect for him steadily growing; it seemed like her toy soldier knew a little about honoring fallen comrades.

"So, now you know why no one ever moves that chair from its place," she stated levelly, then added, "And really, it's probably one of the very few things that is considered sacred amongst the Twelfth. The coffee machine is another, so treat it with the respect it deserves, or you'll meet with trouble."

Turning his green eyes back to her, he shot her a brief smile before sobering slightly once more.

"Should I... should I apologize to Detective Beckett?"

Velasquez shook her head. "No, it's okay, kid. Really. She'll know that I've explained things, and that you understand now."

Giving a slow nod, Jake let out a slow breath. "Okay."

Grabbing a ball of scrunched up paper from the desk beside her, she lobbed it at his head, smiling.

"Now come on, kiddo. Best to get back to these files before Gates decides to sharpen her teeth on you, because trust me, you don't want to get on her bad side. She's been looking for a new victim ever since Castle left her without her favorite chewtoy."

Hauling the stack of files back onto his lap, Jake shot her a grin.

"Yes, Ma'am."

###

It took him most of the morning to work up the courage to approach her.

After his blunder yesterday– and all he'd learned afterwards– he wanted the chance to make some form of apology, to pay his respects both to the man who had fallen for his country, and to those he'd left behind.

But, Jesus, he'd been in gunfights that were less nerve-wracking than this.

Curling his fingers around the small, wooden object in his palm, Jake took a deep breath, then walked over to her desk, pausing just a foot or two away from where she sat, with Castle's chair just to his left.

"Excuse me? Detective Beckett?"

Her head lifted, her eyes fixing with his, and he felt his breath catch just slightly in his throat. She was more beautiful than he'd realized; he put her at just past her mid-thirties, close to ten years older than himself, and he could easily bet that without the ring on her finger, she'd have no shortage of men after her.

But somehow, he got the feeling that she'd still be wearing that ring until the day she died.

Realizing that she was waiting for him to speak, he cleared his throat, hastily searching for the right words.

"I just, uh, I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. I meant no disrespect. So I, um, made something, and I was hoping that you would allow me to put it on the chair."

Holding out his hand, he uncurled his fingers, revealing the object he'd been holding; a carved wooden talisman, shaped into an intricate knot design.

"It's, uh, it's a Celtic shield knot," he explained, watching almost anxiously as she picked up the object, examining it with a keen eye. Feeling about as moronic as he knew he must look, he pressed on, "They used to put the design on warriors' shields for protection, and to… um, to ward them from evil spirits."

At that, Beckett lifted her head and simply looked up at him for a moment– and for a split second he felt a stab of panic, terrified that he had somehow insulted her or her husband's memory– but then, to his relief and astonishment, she began to smile, a smooth, beautiful curve of the lips.

"Thank you, Jake," she said quietly, and he could hear the sincerity in her voice as she added, "Castle would have loved the thought of that."

Giving a small nod– because he really wasn't sure what else he could say– Jake took a step back, turning to go.

But before he could take even a single step further, her voice stopped him.

"Hey, Jake."

Turning back to face her, he met her gaze squarely, fighting the urge to stare at his feet.

"Yes, Detective?"

Rising from the chair, she stepped forward, holding the talisman up for him to see. Then, giving him a small smile, she placed it on Castle's chair.

"You don't need to be afraid of me, kid," she said, just a trace of teasing in her tone. He had just opened his mouth to reply that he wasn't– a blatant lie, really– when suddenly someone called out across the bullpen, and both he and Beckett instantly turned, reflexively looking for the source of the sound.

"Kate!" called the voice again, and at last Jake found its source. Seeing the slim, gorgeous redhead making her way through the bullpen– though being stopped repeatedly by officers to exchange warm greetings and hugs– he felt his mouth open slightly, unable to do anything but stare.

"You know what, scratch that," Beckett said beside him, dragging his focus back to her. Gathering up her coat and handbag, she shot him a wry look.

"You keep looking at my daughter like that, I'll give you good reason to be afraid of me."

Jake's eyes grew even wider as he looked between the detective and the newcomer.

"Your wh– I, uh, I mean–"

He was still trying to form an appropriate answer when the young woman reached them, her eyes reflecting curious interest as they fixed briefly upon him, a pleasant smile curving her lips as she gave him an acknowledging nod. Then, thankfully, she turned to Detective Beckett, and he was free to breathe again.

"Hey, Kate," the redhead said warmly, wrapping her arms around Beckett, the two of them sharing a tight hug. Then, letting go, the younger woman stepped back and turned towards the empty chair.

"Hey, Dad," she said, her voice totally devoid of embarrassment, seeming not in the least bit self-conscious as she kissed her fingers and laid them briefly atop the backrest of the chair. Then, reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it, revealing a colorful child's drawing.

"Theo drew this for you," she told the chair, smiling. "Apparently the one in the cape is you, saving the world. Your weapon of choice is a huge gun that shoots rainbows, which I think sends a pretty deep message."

Looking over her shoulder, Beckett laughed. "He definitely got his dad's creativity. I'm so hopeless that even stick figures are practically beyond my ability. Also, taking a wild guess here, I'm thinking you're the one drawn with fire-engine red hair?"

"Yep, and that's you, holding a gun in one hand and Theo's hand in the other. Don't ask me why there's a tiger beside him though, I still haven't managed to puzzle that one out."

"Hey, as long as it doesn't try to eat anyone, it's welcome to be there."

At her words, the two of them looked at each other and laughed, seemingly sharing some kind of private joke.

Still frozen in place, Jake watched the entire exchange with fascination, unable to look away from this unconventional but touching family moment. He watched as the young woman– he'd put her at about early to mid twenties– leaned down, propping the picture up on the chair and gently fixing the curled edges.

Then, she began to straighten up, but paused, as if something had caught her eye.

"Wow," she said softly, picking something up off the chair. Forcibly lowering his gaze from her face, he looked down at the object in her hand– and sucked in a breath. She was holding the talisman. His talisman.

"What's this?" she asked, looking up at Beckett. "It's beautiful."

Beckett's mouth lifted. "You should ask Jake here. He made it."

Straightening, the young woman turned to him, her blue eyes clear and beautiful.

"You made this?"

"I– yeah. My dad taught me to carve wood when I was a kid."

"Tell her what it means," Beckett prodded, and Jake shifted uncomfortably.

"It's, ah, a protective symbol that used to go on warrior's shields."

Beckett shot him a devious look over the girl's shoulder. "And what was that about the spirits?"

Please, god, don't let him be blushing. Not in front of _her_.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Jake added, "It's also meant to, uh, ward off evil spirits."

The young woman grinned. "Oh, that's too perfect. Dad would love that."

Beckett grinned. "That's what I said."

"I love it, too. Thanks, Jake," the redhead said, then held out her hand. "I'm Alexis. You must be new, since I don't think I've ever seen you around before."

Jake shook the proffered hand, hoping like hell that his palms weren't damp with sweat. Two tours in Afghanistan? No problem. One beautiful woman? Daunting as hell.

Clearing his throat once more, Jake nodded. "Yeah, I just got assigned here a few days ago. Just out of the Academy."

"Congratulations," Alexis said, her voice genuine. "Were you Armed Forces before you went through the Academy?"

Jake felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. "Yes, I was. How'd you know?"

Alexis' answering smile was stunning, both playful and sweet.

"Well, you're a little older than most rookies, and you've definitely got that soldier look about you," she explained with a grin, then went on, "There's a few ex-Forces guys here, actually, like Peters and McShea, and of course, Esposito."

Nodding over at a Hispanic detective that Jake hadn't yet been introduced to, Alexis' grin widened.

"Espo's pretty much family, and one of the best detectives I've ever met. If you're looking to learn, he's a great mentor. So's Ryan, his partner over there in the three-piece suit. He was never a soldier, but if you want to get on his good side, just ask him about his daughter. He'll talk your ear off about her but he'll also teach you a lot of things about being a great cop."

Jake blinked. She was talking to him like he was a friend already, not some dumb grunt she'd only just met, and he didn't know how to respond. "Uh, thanks. I'll remember that."

"So who are you partnered with?"

That brought a small smile from him. Looking over at his somewhat bossy but clearly soft-hearted teammate, Jake answered, "Velasquez."

"Ah," Alexis said knowingly. "Cinnamon donuts."

Jake felt his forehead crease as he looked down at her, totally not comprehending. "I'm sorry?"

"Cinnamon donuts. They're her weakness. They'll get you anywhere."

Seeing the grin on her face, he had to laugh. "Thanks. I'm sure that will save my ass someday."

"I don't doubt it will. And you're welcome."

Having stood back during their little exchange, Beckett suddenly cleared her throat, her expression almost amused.

"Well, we better get going, kiddo. I'm starving and not everyone's bosses are as cool about long lunch breaks as Lanie is."

"Pfft, you're Gates' favorite and you know it," Alexis teased, looking up at Beckett with obvious affection.

"Shhh, don't let her hear you say that. She'll lump me with extra paperwork just so no one could accuse her of having a soft side."

Alexis rolled her eyes, but followed it with a smile. "Alright, alright, let's go."

Turning her eyes back to him, Alexis smiled again, but it was a different kind of smile, one that had his heart beating faster, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. Taking his hand again, she pressed the talisman into his palm, her eyes never leaving his.

"Nice to meet you, Jake. Maybe I'll see you around."

Then, letting go, she stepped back, and he blinked, trying to remember how to respond.

"Yeah. Yeah, you too," he managed, trying not to look too dazed as she threw a last smile over her shoulder before heading towards the lift with Beckett.

For a few moments, he simply stood there, watching them go, before he cleared his throat, blinking as he looked down at the talisman he held.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Jake leaned down– under the guise of placing the carved knot back on the chair– but paused for a brief moment, his eyes drifting over the chair and coming to rest on the caped, blue-eyed stick-figure with the rainbow gun.

Taking a deep breath, Jake kept his voice low, his tone respectful.

"Sir, I know you don't know me very well yet, but I'd like your permission to ask your daughter out on a date."

There was no response, the blue eyes continuing to stare unblinkingly out at him, the figure frozen in its technicolor depiction of saving the world. But it was still wearing its wide, crayoned smile, and somehow, it felt like it approved.

Feeling a smile curving his own lips, Jake gave a small, respectful nod.

"I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

><p><em>Well, yeah. I have nothing much to say about this, other than I have no idea where it came from or where the hell it went. The sad part was unexpected. The fluff was unexpected. Creating my own headcanon for Alexis' future husband was certainly unexpected lol.<em>

_But anyhow, hope you enjoyed it, and remember, all comments/suggestions for improvement are welcome!_

_-Laura_


	2. Future

_As much as I liked The Chair as a standalone, I couldn't let go of this universe just yet._

_For Ched, even if I did miss my deadline by a day. Happy belated birthday, kiddo._

* * *

><p><em>Thump.<em>

Lifting her eyes from her paperwork, Velasquez looked first at the box that had suddenly appeared on her desk, then up at her rookie partner, one eyebrow lifting in question.

Standing in his tense soldier pose before her, Jake met her gaze steadily, his expression dead serious as he spoke.

"I need your help."

Glancing back at the thin cardboard box– which was now emanating a familiar, delicious aroma that already had her mouth watering– she drew it towards herself with one hand, the other gesturing vaguely in his direction.

"Pull up a chair, kid. And this better be what I think it is, or you can consider my services revoked."

Naturally, it was an empty threat. Jake had only been on the job a few weeks now, but— to her own surprise even more so than anyone else's— the bond between her and her young partner had set strong and fast. Like a lioness with her cub, she had taken it as her mission to protect and guide him, and so far he had repaid her well, working hard and learning rapidly, quickly earning the respect of the other uniforms. Now, at her words, he shot her a small, almost nervous smile, his posture relaxing only slightly as he quickly brought the chair around from his own desk, placing it just a few feet from hers.

Pulling the box of awaiting deliciousness onto her lap, she swiveled in her seat to face him, but didn't look up. She could feel him watching her, all tightly controlled tension and taut muscles— and, to be honest, making him suffer just a little was entertaining as hell. So, instead of addressing him immediately, she took an extra moment to open the box, letting out a small moan of appreciation as she saw the contents nestled inside.

Finally meeting his gaze, she narrowed her eyes, giving him a wry look.

"Who told you about the cinnamon donuts?"

"Confidential informant," he quipped back, his dry sense of humor— so well matched to her own— briefly breaking through the somber mask he'd been wearing all morning. She'd known from the moment he'd entered the bullpen that he had something on his mind, just as she'd known he would come to her when he was ready.

Which, it appeared, was now.

"Touché," she muttered, occupying herself with digging one of the heavenly-looking donuts– he'd brought her four, smart boy– out of the box. Taking a bite, she met his eyes, silently giving him permission to speak.

Instead, however, he dropped his gaze and fidgeted, a telling sign for the normally composed ex-soldier. Taking pity on him, she swallowed her mouthful– damn, these donuts were good– and cocked her head, inspecting the donut casually as she spoke.

"Must be something pretty big, if you were willing to play your trump card to get my help," she mused quietly, seemingly keeping her gaze focused on the tasty treat in her hand while watching him subtly from the corner of her eye.

She heard him give a small sigh, and glanced over to see his expression turn sheepish, the beginnings of a small, uncertain smile curving his lips.

_Oh, this was going to be good._

"Well, yeah, instinct told me to hold back on playing the donut angle until I was in real need of a 'get out of jail free' card," he murmured, "but I've been trying to handle this on my own for a couple of weeks already and I'm not getting anywhere, so…"

For a moment he paused— his self-effacing smile melting her heart almost as much as the donuts had— then added honestly, "I guess you could say I'm desperate."

"Spit it out already, kid," she commanded, well aware that they could both see right through her gruff façade. Everyone at the precinct knew how much she cared about her rookie, some even venturing so far as to refer to him as her 'cub' to her face. She made certain it wasn't something they did a second time.

"Alright, just— don't laugh, okay?"

Trying to hide her amusement— he'd pretty much just guaranteed that whatever he was about to say would be impossible not to laugh at— she carefully adopted a neutral expression, waving idly for him to continue.

With another small sigh, Jake glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot. Then, he leaned forward, his voice low and slightly embarrassed as he spoke.

"I need you to help me ask Alexis Castle on a date."

She'd been right; she couldn't help it. She laughed. Covering her mouth with her donut-free hand, she swiftly turned the laughter into a cough, then cleared her throat and forced a serious expression. Once she was under control, she lifted her gaze to Jake's once more, any trace of amusement dying quickly as she saw the embarrassment and dismay reflected in his green eyes.

_God, I feel like I just kicked a puppy. If I could kick my own ass for that, I would._

"I'm sorry, Jake," she said immediately, her remorse sincere. "I just… it's not what I was expecting, that's all. Really, I'm sorry."

Jake gave her a small smile, shaking his head slightly.

"It's all good, 'Quez," he said, using the nickname that he alone could get away with. "If the roles were reversed, I would've reacted the same."

She snorted. "Doubt it, since it'd be more than a little disturbing if I wanted to ask Alexis out."

Reaching out, she slid the donut box towards him with one hand, the other popping the last bite into her mouth as she did so.

"Have a donut, kid."

"Thanks," he said, favoring her with a model-worthy smile. "They're my favorite, too, you know."

She nodded approvingly. "Looks like you have good taste in more than just partners."

"Velasquez, I was _assigned_ to you," he said dryly, arching a dark brow.

She waved him off. "Details. In any case, let's get to work, before You-Know-Who discovers us and makes us do some _actual_ work. Brief me on the case so far."

Jake lowered his donut, clearing his throat self-consciously as he tried to explain. "Well, we've– we've talked, a few times, and we seem to get along really well and everything, and– I don't know, I thought I'd ask her for coffee sometime or something, but–"

"Okay, stop," she ordered, closing her eyes briefly and holding up a hand. She'd known all along he was interested in Alexis, had teased him about it more than once, but she hadn't realized he had it quite this bad.

_Good Lord, what am I getting myself into._

Opening her eyes, she fixed her young partner with an appraising look, then shook her head.

"You know, honestly I would have thought you'd be more used to this kind of thing, what with the whole handsome soldier thing you've got going on."

Jake shrugged, looking down at the half-eaten donut he still held.

"I was really shy at school, didn't really know how to talk to girls. Late bloomer, too, I guess. I was eighteen when I enlisted, and after that I wasn't exactly in the best position to be looking for a relationship, you know? I dated a bit when I was home between tours, have had a couple of serious relationships too, but I never really got good at being… smooth, I guess."

Velasquez suppressed a snort. "Kid, you don't _need_ smooth. Trust me. You got everything you need, and even more importantly, you have _me_. And right now, I'm going to give you the secret to dating Alexis Castle."

Jake leaned forward. "What?"

Leaning back in her chair, Velasquez tipped her head at a form across the room. "It's right there."

"Detective Beckett?" her partner questioned, his forehead creasing with confusion as he struggled to understand.

"Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan," she corrected, then went on, "They're Alexis' family. You want to have a shot with her– a real shot, relationship wise, and I hope to god you aren't talking about anything less– then you are going to have to impress them first. Because sure as hell, the moment you ask her out, you're going to find yourself strapped to a polygraph machine and staring into the very serious faces of Ryan and Esposito."

Jake started to smile, then noticed her expression and stopped short. "You're serious."

"As a donut-induced heart attack," she answered assuredly, snagging another donut from the box as she said it. Then, catching his eyes once more, she raised an eyebrow, all trace of humor gone.

"Speaking of serious matters, that's another thing, kid. You gotta be sure you want to pursue this. Because if things go sour, it could definitely impact on your popularity here. Alexis has been known around the 12th since she was fifteen. And since what happened with Castle… everyone's pretty protective of her."

Jake shook his head, his voice low, his eyes earnest. "You know I would never knowingly hurt her. Accidentally, maybe, but definitely not if I can help it."

"Thought as much," Velasquez answered, feeling the tiniest tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Finishing the last of her donut, she brushed off her hands and placed them behind her head, fixing him with a sharp eye. "Alright then, first step: Beckett and the boys."

"Right," Jake agreed, then faltered. "So, uh… how am I meant to impress them?"

"Well, you're already on the way, just by proving yourself to be a decent cop," she began, then added, "A little respect and a nice smile doesn't hurt, either, so we're lucky you've got those bases covered. Oh, and don't forget to get on Lanie's good side, too."

"Dr. Parish? Alexis' boss?"

She nodded. "Who also happens to be Beckett's best friend, not to mention Esposito's wife."

Jake blinked. "Detective Esposito and Dr Parish are _married_?"

"Well, not technically, since Lanie doesn't really believe in the institution of marriage. But they're pretty much the same thing, just without the certificate."

Shaking her head, she directed them back on track. "The important thing here, though, is that Lanie is practically like an adopted aunt to Alexis. She's one of the main reasons Alexis went into pre-med in the first place."

"Okay. So I want Dr Parish plus detectives Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan to like me," he said slowly, trying to look like this wasn't a task that daunted him. After a moment's pause, he took a breath and looked up at her. "Any suggestions as to how to make that happen?"

Velasquez shrugged, holding back a smile. "Be yourself?"

"Be _myself_?"

"Hey, four donuts does not buy a solution to all your problems. I'm just an advisor here. You wanna win this game, you gotta work from your own playbook."

Jake frowned. "It's not a game to me."

Velasquez snorted. "Oh, relax, Romeo." Then, a thought struck her, and she instantly perked up. "You play poker?"

"What?" Jake responded, clearly confused by her sudden switch in direction. "Uh, yeah, we played a bit back at my base camp, and sometimes at the Academy. Why?"

"Well, you better brush up your skills fast," Velasquez told him matter-of-factly, feeling impressed with her own ingenuity, "Because every Friday Beckett and the gang have a poker night, and we're going to get you in on it."

Jake blinked, his green eyes uncertain. "Uh, are you sure… I mean, does that really seem like… okay?"

"Trust me, kid," she answered, reaching across to clap him reassuringly on one muscled shoulder. "I'm going to set you up with the pass, and you're going to take it for the touchdown."

###

It was killing her.

He could tell, even from all the way across the bullpen; could see the impatience, the questions in her eyes that were just dying to escape her lips.

Feeling in the mood for a little revenge— after all, she'd knowingly (and, by all appearances, gleefully) thrown him into a pool full of sharks with her little poker stunt, well-meaning or not— he kept up the radio silence just a little longer, crossing the bullpen to take his place across from her, nodding a casual good morning as he slid into his seat.

In all honesty, he was half-surprised she'd managed to last the whole weekend without calling him to demand a detailed report of his Friday night activities. She'd spent a good fortnight working to get him that invite— helped, a least in a small way, by the fact that some of the legwork the two of them had done had led almost directly to breaking Beckett's latest case— and, knowing her like he did, he knew that she would want to know as soon as possible how her hard work had paid off.

And, from the pointed throat-clearing noises drifting from her side of the desk, he would guess that first thing Monday morning was about as far as her patience stretched.

Biting back a smile, Jake kept his head down, feigning utter absorption in the paperwork he was double-checking. While turning a page, he glanced surreptitiously at his watch, silently betting she wouldn't last more than two minutes longer.

If the last several weeks as her partner had taught him anything, it was that she was clever, determined, reliable, honest, and so many other things that made her perfect to work with; patient, however, she was not.

Maintaining his image of unwavering focus— one that had served him well through hours of standing at attention, first in the military and then the Academy—Jake kept his eyes down, waiting.

Soon enough, he got what he was waiting for— an annoyed huff, followed a moment later by an impatient, gruff demand of _"Well?"_

_One minute 28 seconds_, he thought, grinning. Velasquez could pretend all she wanted, but she was not as uninterested and uncaring as she liked to seem.

Leaning back in his chair, Jake stretched slowly, then blew out a quiet breath as he leaned in and propped his elbows on the desktop, Velasquez immediately mirroring his position on the other side of their combined desks.

"I've never been so terrified and had so much fun at the same time," he admitted honestly, taking care to keep his voice low. The subjects of their conversation were at the far end of the bullpen, well out of earshot, but that didn't mean word couldn't reach them by way of other ears. Not that it would matter if it did; he had nothing but admiration and respect for Beckett and her team. Well, that, and a little bit of awe. And, well, fear.

But, as one particularly eloquent drill sergeant had always liked to say, a man without fear is either a liar or a moron— and Jake generally liked to think he was neither.

"Aaaand?" Velasquez prompted, one blonde brow raised, her impatience carefully held in check.

"Aaaand I definitely understand why they're the best on the force," he told her, feeling a twinge of embarrassment mix with his smile. "I didn't even realize I was being interrogated until about halfway in."

Velasquez snorted softly, as if unsurprised. "Well, you're still here and all in one piece, so I guess you passed."

Steepling his fingers in the desk in front of him, Jake lowered eyes to his hands. "I really hope so."

After a pensive moment, he looked up, a wry twist to the corner of his mouth. "But man, Velasquez, you _really_ could have warned me that Captain Gates would be there."

To her credit, she at least attempted to look apologetic. However, the image was ruined a little by the amused glint in her eyes, the suppressed laughter in her voice as she explained, "Well, she doesn't always make it every week, so I thought it was better not to scare you off with something that might not even occur."

"Well, she made it," Jake answered dryly, but the grin on her face was infectious, and he soon gave in. "She also kicked ass. After Beckett, she was the best player at the table."

Velasquez hushed him, her expression teasing. "Don't let Esposito hear you say that. He has delusions of grandeur."

Thinking of the veteran detective's keen eyes and carefully constructed questions, the intuitive way he played and the skill with which he read people, Jake shook his head slightly. Both Esposito and Ryan had been incredibly close to being on par with Gates and Beckett. Not for the first time, he sent up silent thanks to his grandfather, who had been his first— and best— teacher when it came to poker. Without him, Jake would have been completely out of his league among the circle of detectives. In fact, without him, there were many things Jake would never have been— alive almost certainly being one of them.

After a moment of thoughtful inattention, his partner focused her gaze on him once again, distracting him from his thoughts.

"So, spill the rest, soldier boy. You remembered what I said about the seating arrangements?"

"Yeah," Jake answered, closing his eyes as he pictured the spacious living area he had been guided into just a few nights before, the professional-grade poker table already occupied and as daunting as any battlefield he'd ever seen. Eyes still closed, he visualized each spot as he repeated the words she had told him the week before.

"Empty seat to Beckett's right for Castle. Esposito always to Beckett's left, Ryan always flanking Castle's empty chair," he said, then opened his eyes. "I ended up next to Esposito with Gates on my other side, in between me and Ryan."

Velasquez nodded approvingly. "Anyone else appear on the scene?"

"Yeah, Ms Rodgers—I mean, Martha— dropped by to grab something and then ended up staying for a couple of hands. She had skill, too— she probably would have won more if she focused more on the game instead of making conversation. And it was weird, 'Quez, the way she talked to me— like she knew who I was before I introduced myself."

"The Martha stamp of approval before even going on the first date," Velasquez grinned, then pointed at him with her pen. "You've hit the jackpot, kid."

He gave her a small smile, then paused, drawing in a breath. _Let's see what she thinks of this one._

"That's not the end of it, 'Quez," he said softly, seeing her lean in with interest.

"I thought I was in over my head from the moment I walked in the door— you know, being nowhere in the same league as those guys, in any sense, not just about poker—" he lifted a hand slightly when she showed an inclination to argue, continuing, "but just as I thought I couldn't get any more blown away, someone else joined the party."

Velasquez's eyebrows were raised, her expression expectant, impatient for him to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Jake let it out, his eyes locking with her as he spoke.

"Theo."

Velasquez nearly dropped her pen. "You met _Theo_?"

He could tell by the shocked hush of her words that it was as big a deal as he'd thought.

"He must have snuck downstairs sometime soon after Martha left," he affirmed, watching her expression carefully. "I didn't even notice him at first, but Beckett must have some kind of supermom senses because she knew he was there almost straight away, even though he was completely hidden behind her chair."

Jake paused, toying with his own pen as he remembered. "It was weird, seeing her be so sweet and… you know, _mom_-like with him, given that I've only seen her how she is at work."

Velasquez smirked at that, but didn't move to interrupt, so he went on.

"But, yeah, everyone said hi to him like he showed up during poker matches all the time, and then Beckett told him who I was, and I said hi as well. He didn't say anything and at first I thought it was me, that he didn't like me or something, but everyone else just went back to their cards and didn't seem to think it was weird, so I sort of guessed that's just how he must be with strangers most of the time or something. So I tried to focus on my hand like the others, but he just kept looking at me, and I didn't want to just _ignore_ him, you know?"

He wasn't explaining this very well. Velasquez was just staring at him, and for a moment he worried that she wouldn't understand, that she would want to know exactly why the thought of making a small child feel ignored or dismissed should bother him so much. Instead of questioning him, however, she simply gave him a thoughtful look, her voice soft as she prompted him to continue.

"So what did you do?"

Holding back his sigh of relief, Jake looked at his hands, tracing an old scar with his thumbnail. "I don't know, the only thing that seemed right to do, I guess. I folded my hand and excused myself, then went over and sat on the floor and introduced myself properly."

Looking up at her, he felt himself smile. "He's actually a really cool kid, you know. Once he got over the initial shyness and everything, he sat down and started telling me all about his favorite storybooks and toys and stuff right away."

"You're joking."

"No, that's seriously what happened. Look, he even made me take this," he said, reaching into his bag to pull out the small, camo-clad figurine that Theo had pressed so insistently into his hands just a few nights before. "I tried to give it back to him when I left, but he was pretty determined for a little guy, and Beckett just nodded and gave me this sort of unreadable smile so I thanked him and took it. I didn't know what else to do."

Velasquez leaned back in her chair, pen forgotten in her hands as she stared at the soldier figurine.

"Well," she said eventually, as if unsure how to respond to all he'd just told her. Then she looked up and caught his eye, a slow smile forming on her face. "Good work, kid. Knew you had it in you."

Jake hesitated, his grip tightening around the little soldier as the doubts he'd battled all weekend— or, for weeks, really— rose to the forefront of his thoughts yet again.

"What?" Velasquez said, dragging the word out as she leaned forward, eyeing him with a sharp, measuring gaze. Clearly she'd noticed something was up.

"I guess I was just thinking that maybe—" he paused, giving her a small, sheepish smile — "Well, I mean, when it comes down to it, Alexis may not even be interested."

"Well, you're never going to find out if you don't ask," she answered steadily, in the manner of one stating the extremely obvious. Then, crossing her arms over her chest, she added firmly, "So, next time you see her, you're going to straighten that spine, give her one of those big, pretty smiles of yours, and then ask her on a goddamn date."

Grinning in spite of himself, Jake gave her a curt nod. "Yes, ma'am."

Seemingly satisfied, Velasquez leaned back in her chair once more, threading her fingers behind her head as she surveyed him.

"You know, kid, Castle was a great guy. A really great guy. And even though he had the tendency to have a major freak out any time a good-lookin' young man entered his daughter's life, I think he would have liked you."

His grin widened, his expression teasing as he looked over at her. "Did you just call me good-looking?"

Velasquez threw her pen at him. "I was making a _generalization_, bucko," she huffed, then shook her head in feigned exasperation, muttering, "God, you and Castle really _would_ have gotten along."

"I really hope so," he answered, his smile no longer teasing. "It would have been an honor."

"Not sure about an honor, but certainly a unique experience," Velasquez answered with a smirk, then pushed herself up out of her chair, leaving her paperwork abandoned on her desk.

Raising an eyebrow, Jake watched her cast an eye around the room, seeing the small smile that formed on her face as she seemingly found what she was looking for. Without a word, she started towards it, rounding their combined desk to pass by him on his right.

Swiveling in his chair as she passed, he felt the curiosity get to him. "Where are you going?"

Glancing at him over her shoulder, Velasquez winked.

"To do a little recon."

###

She found Beckett in the break room, making herself a coffee on Castle's machine. Watching her from the doorway, Velasquez could tell that it was not the detective's old favorite that she was making, but something much simpler, a common blend— exactly the way Castle had taken it.

It was not the first time Velasquez had noticed the change; still, each time she saw the detective sipping slowly from that carefully-cradled mug— no longer blue and curved, but Castle's sturdy white— she was struck afresh by the thought that it was one of the saddest and most beautiful acts she'd ever seen.

Clearing her throat against that familiar tightness, Velasquez crossed the room to lean against the counter beside the younger woman.

"Well? How did my boy do?"

Looking across, Beckett shot her a grin. "Look at you, going all mama bear."

Velasquez shrugged. "Well, not all of us are lucky enough to have our own. We gotta find an outlet for our maternal instincts where we can. So come on, Beckett. Be straight with me."

Turning, Beckett settled against the counter beside her, stirring her coffee thoughtfully. "Well, I'll put it this way. Theo hasn't shut up about him since."

Velasquez held back a smile, her voice careful as she said simply, "Yeah, I heard they met during the game."

"Yeah, the little ninja snuck downstairs again," Beckett's grin was fleeting, the familiar somber look soon returning to her features. "You know he doesn't always sleep so well anymore."

Velasquez nodded silently, her heart going out to both the woman beside her and to the little boy who would never have the chance to truly know one of the greatest men to ever step through the doors of the 12th Precinct.

"Well, long story short, Theo's fascinated by him. Calls him Commando Jake. If he weren't so completely Castle's son, I'd be astonished that a 4 year old even knew that word, let alone could pronounce it perfectly."

Velasquez glanced over at the detective, her gaze questioning. "Sounds like Jake's got a fan, then."

"He's got a few," Beckett admitted with a grin, then added, "Ryan and Espo can't find a fault in him. Honestly, they don't seem to know whether to be happy or disappointed."

_Touchdown. _Velasquez ducked her head, hastily getting her triumphant grin under control. She'd managed to resume a neutral expression by the time Beckett turned to her, her hazel eyes serious.

"I can see him fitting with this team, Velasquez. You know there are going to be eyes on him, watching to see what he can do."

"I don't think he'll disappoint," Velasquez said quietly, her belief in him evident in her tone.

Beckett smiled. "With you training him, I can't imagine that he could. And with the four of us, we could have a future detective on our hands."

Tilting her head, Velasquez studied the younger woman. "You really do approve of him, then."

Beckett shrugged, the action deceptively casual. "Hey, if he hadn't already earned my approval the moment he handed me the talisman for Castle's chair, he would have gained it the moment he left a winning hand on the poker table to sit on the floor and introduce himself to my kid."

Feeling a small spark of pride flare in her chest, Velasquez glanced over towards their desk in search of her rookie—but found him instead in the corridor leading to the elevator, deep in conversation with a certain redhead.

_Well, look at you, kid. That didn't take long._

Biting her lip, she tilted her head towards the young pair. "Looks like it's not only Theo's interest that has been piqued."

Glancing out at the corridor, Beckett grinned, then shot her a wink, taking a contented sip of her coffee.

Clearing her throat slightly, Velasquez pushed herself away from the counter. "Well, might go see what I can do about those files. Maybe if I can knock them off now, I can free up my schedule a little bit later."

Beckett watched her over the top of her coffee cup, her eyes teasing. "_Your_ schedule, or your partner's?"

"Mine, of course," Velasquez answered wryly, then added, "If the rookie should happen to find himself with a little free time as a result, then that's just a lucky side-effect."

"Mmm-hmm," Beckett nodded, laughter in her eyes. "You might need to work on your whole 'hardass career-woman' act, Velasquez. I think you're slipping."

Velasquez lifted an eyebrow, her words only half-joking. "You blazed that trail, Detective. Maybe I just finally found a reason to follow."

She was almost to the door when the younger woman spoke, stopping her.

"Luisa," Beckett said quietly, utilizing Velasquez's seldom-uttered first name, "If he needs a helping hand…"

Looking back at her friend and colleague, Velasquez lifted her eyebrows in question.

Beckett smiled, then glanced out at the young pair still chatting in the corridor.

"Tell him to take her laser tagging."

Understanding the significance of what the woman had just told her, Velasquez inclined her head slightly, genuinely grateful to her friend.

"Thanks, Kate."

Leaving the detective alone with her thoughts, Velasquez returned to her desk, dropping into her chair and sighing at the stack of files that still sat patiently upon the desktop. Looking up, she glanced over at her partner, and then at the little commando toy that now sat proudly upon his desk.

With another sigh, she straightened in her chair, drawing the stack of files closer to her. _Damn rookie is going to owe me so many donuts_.

Gritting her teeth in concentration, she moved her pen swiftly across the page, rapidly filling out the familiar paperwork she'd done so many times over the years— though admittedly, rarely with the focus or determination she held right now.

Clearly, Beckett was more right than she'd care to admit, and the stupid soldier boy had gotten under her skin more quickly than she could have ever anticipated.

_God, I really have gone all mama bear._

As that though struck her, she glanced over her young partner once more— right at the exact moment he turned around, catching her eye, his grin so sudden and bright it was like looking at the sun. Looking past him, she saw a flash of copper as Alexis stepped into the elevator, blue eyes glancing back in his direction for the briefest of seconds before she disappeared from sight.

Completely oblivious to the girl's parting glance, Jake was already working his way across the crowded bullpen to reach their desk, his long, athletic legs swiftly covering the distance.

Dropping into his seat, he drew a stack of files toward himself, already apologizing for not pulling his weight— but, as usual, she simply waved his apologies away, silently returning to her own work.

After a minute she glanced over, seeing him bent over a file, making a game attempt at concentration— but you didn't have to be sitting with the across the room with a detective badge on to know that he was barely taking in a single word.

"You keep grinning like that, you're going to pull a muscle," she commented dryly, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Looking up guiltily, Jake shot her a sheepish grin. "Sorry, 'Quez. I'll focus."

That seemed unlikely. The kid was practically glowing.

Deciding that their paperwork could wait another minute or two, Velasquez leaned back in her chair, her smile teasing.

"Soooo, when's the date?"

Jake glanced at her, then away again, lifting one shoulder in a poor imitation of a nonchalant shrug. "She suggested tomorrow, but we've got office work, so it's going to have to be next week sometime. But, you know, at least it was a yes."

"Alright, listen here, kid," she stated firmly, leaning in and pointing her pen at him with a determined expression. "The first thing you are going to do is put that number in your phone, following which you are going to call that girl immediately and let her know you've become free, and check if tomorrow night would still be suitable. Once that's done, you are going to come back here, sit down, and tell me your game plan for this date. Because hear this, rookie, I am not going to let you mess this up."

Jake was already shaking his head, a confused frown on his face. "But I'm not free tomorrow night! We've got the paperwork from the Baker case—"

"Last week you saw me singlehandedly take down a three hundred pound man," she said evenly, eyeing him with feigned disdain. "Do you _really_ think I can't handle a little paperwork on my own?"

Playing along, Jake gave her a teasing grin. "My guy was bigger."

She snorted. "Yes, well done, army boy. You bested a woman who is a foot shorter and almost two decades older than you. I should start calling you Captain America. Now scat, and make that damn phone call. You have five minutes."

He hesitated. "Are you sure—"

"Go. Now. That's an order."

There was a moment of silence before he suddenly flashed her a grin, then moved swiftly, leaving his chair with the grace of an athlete. "Thanks, 'Quez. I owe you one."

"More like a hundred," she shot back, earning a playful, dismissive wave from over his shoulder as he retreated, his phone already in hand.

Shaking her head with a small smile, she returned to her paperwork.

She had a feeling things were going to work out just fine.

###

She smelled the donuts before she saw them.

Lifting her eyes from her takeaway coffee cup— usually the only thing that could hold her attention at this time of the morning— Velasquez focused instead on the familiar white cardboard box that awaited her atop her desk, completely oblivious to the jealous and hungry looks that the sugary aroma was invoking from those around her.

Reaching her chair, she deposited both her purse and coffee onto the desk beside the cardboard container of goodness, then straightened, casting a quick, searching eye around the room.

Almost immediately, she spotted her rookie— not that she could really call him that anymore, given the fact that he'd been at the 12th almost three years now— almost exactly where she expected him to be, standing tall and alert beside their team of veteran detectives, listening attentively as Beckett addressed the group.

Despite his company, he wasn't out of the uniform just yet; he still had a lot to learn from her, and, though she'd never admit it aloud, she just wasn't quite ready to completely give up the best partner she'd ever had. Instead, over the past year or so she'd come to an arrangement of sorts with Beckett, handing him over for a few hours every now and then so he could shadow the detectives and develop his skills.

Thankfully, none of the other young officers seemed to mind— but then again, Jake was universally liked, and, well, Beckett was held in such awe by most of the rookies that none would ever dare question her decision to allow Jake to take part of his training with her team.

It was widely accepted— but completely unspoken— knowledge that when Captain Gates eventually retired, Beckett would be taking her place, leaving a rare vacancy in the precinct's elite detective team.

And, when the time came, Jake would be ready to fill it.

Watching him over there now, Velasquez felt the familiar burst of pride. In the past three years, he had become part of her family, this brave and kindhearted soldier with no family of his own.

Just as she had that thought, realization finally hit, reminding her just why she had arrived at work so early this morning— and immediately she narrowed her eyes at her partner, wishing she had the telepathic ability to tell him to get his butt over here and tell her what she wanted to know.

Namely, what the answer had been to a very important question.

Over a week ago, she'd watched— with more than a little pride— as Jake had gathered his courage, placing a carefully handwritten note on Castle's chair, an earnest request to both the chair's original owner and the detective who loved him.

Just a day later, that very detective had quietly approached him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and given him a small smile as she leaned over and put a takeaway coffee cup on the desk before him— leaving a stunned silence in her wake as she walked away without a word.

With the blessing so clearly given, Velasquez had spent the next few days doing all she could to help Jake finalize all the arrangements, until just yesterday, when everything— including her young partner— was finally ready.

With a sigh, Velasquez pulled herself back to the present, accepting that her mind— while brilliant, of course— just wasn't going to be capable of telepathically summoning anyone any time soon. Throwing a brief, petulant scowl in the direction of her young partner, she sank into her seat, feeling somewhat mollified by the fact that if he was going to keep her in suspense, he'd at least been good enough to provide her with his usual sugary bribe while he did it.

Flicking the lid off the box, Velasquez reached idly for a donut— and then froze, her eyes instantly locking on the handwritten note sitting innocently atop the box's delicious contents.

The note was brief— just three simple words penned in Jake's familiar script— and yet the message hit her hard, knocking the air from her lungs like the blunted impact of a bullet against a kevlar vest.

_She said yes._

Looking up slowly, she found Jake watching her from across the room, their eyes meeting briefly in a silent, exultant celebration that went completely unnoticed by all those that surrounded them.

After barely a moment, however, Jake had to break the connection, giving her a small, cheerful wink before returning his attention once more to the speaking detective. Swallowing back the lump that seemed to have formed in her throat, Velasquez gripped the small, precious note tightly, her gaze lingering on the closest thing she had ever had to a son.

And if anyone were to claim, later, that her eyes had looked a little wet— she would deny it.

* * *

><p><em>Dialogue-heavy and overly OC-centric, I know. Still, I hope you enjoyed it all the same.<em>

_Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this, and trust me, your reviews mean a hell of a lot more to me than you would think, so please share your thoughts if you can. Even the briefest comment is appreciated :)_

_Oh, and for anyone interested to see just what Jake looks like, I'll be posting a picture of him on my blog, idealisticrealism dot tumblr dot com. Go check him out (because lbr he's pretty sexy)__._

_And just one last little thing- I had no place for him in the story, but I just wanted to give mention to Patrick Richard "Rick-rick" Ryan, Ryan and Jenny's first son __and younger brother to Claire Ryan__, born three years after Castle's death. He has no connection whatsoever to this story, except for the fact that I just felt he absolutely existed in this universe and didn't want to omit him completely. Don't ask me why- I don't understand it either._


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